


Occult

by TwistedTale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 01:03:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2832521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedTale/pseuds/TwistedTale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Disclaimer:</b> This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.</p><p><b>Trigger Warnings:</b> child abuse, mentions of rape, emotional manipulation</p><p><b>A/N:</b> Story written for the Tomione Forum's 2014 Secret Santa as a gift to ZombieReine.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tomione_Forum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomione_Forum/gifts), [ZombieReine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieReine/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings:** child abuse, mentions of rape, emotional manipulation
> 
>  **A/N:** Story written for the Tomione Forum's 2014 Secret Santa as a gift to ZombieReine.

**Occult**

**Chapter 1**

\--

_December 7th, 2005, 22:34_

_The playground had become Teddy’s safe place._

_He kicked his legs out and pulled them back in as hard as he could until the half frozen chains keeping the swing securely fastened to the overarching pole shuddered. He wasn’t going to get any higher._

_Teddy shut his eyes, leaned back his head, and pretended he was flying. Today he decided he would be a dragon, tearing through the sky and flame broiling anything in his path. He opened his eyes just the tiniest bit and exhaled, his hot breath leaving a trail of steam in his wake._

_No one could touch him, he was strong and fast and huge._

_A howl broke through his fantasy, and suddenly he was just Teddy again. Eight years old, small for his age, and burdened with an insane father. He dug his heels into the frozen turf and sat still._

_He glanced at the dark reflective windows of the asylum, although his mother always scolded him for calling it that, but he could see nothing more than his own sad face staring back. He steadfastly looked away. Four months ago he had dared to creep around the edge of the old stone building to attempt to see through the windows. He had regretted his decision ever since._

_It was hard to lose ones innocence so young, at least that was what the doctor had said when he had caught the shell shocked boy staring at the slavering form of his father. Teddy didn’t know anything about innocence, or whatever else the doctor had said as he led him away, but he did know he wasn’t the son of a werewolf._

_Teddy bowed his head as his eyes welled up, really what else had he expected? There was no such thing as magic._

_The sound of snow crunching made him look up in surprise._

“ _Who are you?”_

_\--_

_Present Day_

Hermione rubbed at her face and set aside Edward “Teddy” Lupin’s folder. She had looked over it so often she could recite it from memory.

Name: Edward Lupin

Blood Type: AB

Age: 7

Reported missing December 8th 2005 after his mother, Nymphadora Lupin, went to check on him outside of the mental hospital where his father, Remus Lupin, was being treated for clinical lycanthropy.

No signs of a struggle.

No leads found.

Found dead by Fish and Game officers Friday December 22nd 2005 inside of an old shed in the middle of a wildlife preserve locally called “The Forbidden Forest”.

Hermione still became ill when she looked at the evidence pictures.

Someone had slashed open his throat with a handmade stone knife and let him bleed out on an altar made of animal bone, and then with great meticulousness they field dressed him like a freshly hunted white tail.

No DNA evidence, no fingerprints, no cloth fibers, not even a footprint.

“And so the case went cold.” She muttered, turning to the small stack of manila folders to her right. “Not that it wasn’t cold to begin with.”

The killer had given the police nothing to work with, he never did.

“Again, Hermione?”

Hermione almost fell out of her chair at the sound of Ron’s voice. The redhead had his arms crossed and had on the sternest look she had ever seen him wear.

“Ron I-”

“You promised me you would stop.”

“But-”

“You promised _Harry_ you would stop.”

Her cheeks burned and she looked away from the furious redhead. “I did, but-”

“No ‘buts’ Hermione, you swore you wouldn’t poke your nose into those folders again.”

Hermione grit her teeth and stared out the tiny window nestled in-between the bookshelves. Snow had already covered most of it, giving her little view of the barren trees and the single perched crow that watched all that went on below it with a large dark eye. She heard Ron sigh.

“How did you even get your hands on those in the first place? I had them sealed.”

“I still have friends in the department, despite what you think.”

She peaked over at him. He looked tired, and the lines in his face made him look much older then he actually was.

“Who?”

“Do you honestly think I will tell you?”

“No, but I have a duty to ask.”

She sighed and turned to face him fully, and in that moment she would bet she looked at tired as he did. “Whatever happened to the slacker I married?” She uttered. More contemplative then kind.

His lips twitched, just the tinniest amount, into a sneer or a smile she couldn’t tell anymore. “He grew up I suppose.” His eyes darkened again. “Much too soon.” He reached down and brushed a long strand of hair away from her face. “And whatever happened to my goody two shoes wife?”

Her chest hurt and her eyes ached from unshed tears. _She never had the strength to let go._ Was what she wanted to say. “She never gave up.” Was what she said instead, and Ron flinched as if struck.

“Fine. Look through those folders until your eyes bleed for all I care, but you won’t find anything.” He spun on his heel and stomped away from the table. A few seconds later a loud crash echoed through the empty library and Hermione turned back to her papers, picking up the folder on the very bottom of the stack.

It was the one folder she never dared open, the one she never had the stomach to look at again. She traced her fingers over the name with great fondness.

_**Rose Weasley** _

“I will find who did this to you baby.” She murmured. “Even if it takes until the end of time, I will not rest until you can.”

She leaned back, clutching her Daughter’s folder to her chest, and tiredly eyed the large stack of police reports. She had been over them thousands of times, but there was nothing to reveal who the sick mastermind was behind the murder of her daughter… and of the other children.

_I just need one clue, just one thing to go off of. They had to have slipped up somewhere._

She shut her eyes and leaned back in her chair, her back gave a painful pop at the action. _How long have I been here?_ She glanced down at her watch and sighed. It was almost midnight. _I need to sleep._ Not that it would do her much good, all of her dreams had turned to nightmares long ago. She had not gotten more than a few hours of uninterrupted sleep in years.

Sluggishly she packed together her papers and all but shuffled towards the lift that would lead to her small office above the library. Ever since her divorce with Ron she had taken to living in the small office space, and no one she worked with dared to tell her she couldn’t. Being the mother of a murdered child had the small advantage of people being unable to tell her no. In fact people had a hard enough time saying anything to her now.

A sudden pang of loneliness caused her to stagger as she stepped out of the lift and she almost regretted being cruel to Ron. _Why on earth did he even come to see me?_ In the past the red head had only sought her out when he absolutely needed her. Funeral arrangements, signatures on the divorce papers, the finalization to sell the home neither one of them could stand to be in anymore.

As far as she could tell, Ron had all but moved into his office at the police department (much like she had done at the library) and spent the rest of his time with Harry and Ginny. She didn’t know how his heart didn’t break when he looked at little Lilly Luna and her shock of red hair that reminded her so much of Rose.

Something nagged at the back of her mind when she thought of Harry and his tiny family but she simply couldn’t put her finger on it. _It will come to me later._ She decided as she shouldered open the door to her office and set her stack of various papers, folders, and reports by the small table next to the slightly bigger couch she had made her bed.

Hermione collapsed back into the cushions and sighed. _Another sleepless night._ She had recently developed a sixth sense about how well she would sleep, and tonight… tonight would be bad. It didn’t stop her from stretching out as best as she could on the couch and pulling a ragged old patchwork quilt over her too thin shoulders.

_I just need an hour or two, please just let me have that._ She begged whatever God was out there that saw it fit to torment her night after night and let herself drift off.

\--

_**She was standing in front of a large stone building she couldn’t quite place, and despite the snow on the ground and the lateness of the hour she wasn’t cold. Hermione looked up at the full moon and it looked back down at her… actually looked with a huge black eye that reminded her very much of a crow. She looked away from its cutting gaze and examined the building again. There was a small play area for children right next to the dull grey structure. A jungle gym complete with monkey bars a long slide and a very old looking swing set. One of the swings was moving back and forth on its own as if an invisible child were pumping as hard as they possibly could.** _

_**Without completely knowing why she approached and to her surprise the swing stopped.** _

“ _ **Hello?”**_

_**Her voice echoed around the empty play park but only silence answered her. Then she heard the footsteps. It was hard to be stealthy in winter and the crunch crunch crunch of feet in the snow rang out loud and clear. But there was no one to be seen.** _

_**On impulse she glanced down and flinched in surprise. The once crystal clear blanket of snow was marred with thousands upon thousands of paw prints. She didn’t have to wonder what had made them for long. An excited yip caught her attention and in the distance by a huge expanse of trees (When had those gotten there?) was a puppy.** _

_**He was much too young to be left out on his own. Where were his owners? She started to walk toward the young pup but before she could even get close the animal spun around and bolted through the trees.** _

“ _ **Wait!”**_

_**She sprinted toward him and the world blurred around her, nothing was clear except for the puppy that ran and ran and ran. When he was out of sight she started to rely on his paw prints to track him which shifted between paws and small human feet.** _

_**That was when she saw the first drops of blood, and almost stumbled over a heart steaming in the winter air. Without thinking much about it she picked it up and put it in the beaded purse she always carried with her, and returned to the chase. She found more organs as the kept her dogged pursuit, lungs, liver, kidneys, small intestine, large intestine, and dutifully she collected each one.** _

_**When she finally caught the puppy she would put him back together again. She was stuffing a gallbladder into her purse when the world became clear around her. She blinked.** _

_**She was standing near a small rundown shack in the middle of a large clearing. A monster of a snake was nailed to the door, writing against the wood in agony.** _

_**The puppy sat in front of the door, watching the snake in seeming fascination. At the sound of her approaching one of his large pointed ears flicked back and he whipped around to face her.** _

_**There was a long gash going down from the puppy’s chest to his groin and what was left of his organs were hanging out and covered in dirt and twigs from being dragged across the ground. Before she could approach and try and set him to rights he turned back around and walked through the very solid door like it was nothing. Something seemed off about a puppy being able to do that but Hermione couldn’t place it, instead she shrugged and followed after it.** _

_**As she approached the door the snake’s writhing increased and to her astonishment it seemed to be whispering to itself.** _

“ _ **But snakes don’t speak.” She mused as she examined it. Its scales were shiny and black and its eyes were large and red with strange slit pupils.**_

_**She didn’t have the heart to leave it there and reached out to touch it. It froze under her fingers and held very still as she somehow managed to pull out the nail with her fingers.** _

“ _ **There now, all better.”**_

_**The snake coiled itself around her arm and said nothing. Shrugging she continued on after her illusive puppy. The door was surprisingly easy to walk through, although the snake shuddered when she did.** _

_**There was an altar made of bone. Something tugged at her memory but she couldn’t quite remember why that was important, only that it was. The puppy way resting on top of the bone altar, stretched out and comfortable despite the jutting bones pressing into him.** _

“ _ **Well, at least you aren’t going anywhere.”**_

_**He yawned in response and Hermione looked around. Across from the altar was a large expanse of wall with nonsense designs all done up in blood. Her eyes narrowed as the strange squiggles seemed to writhe under her scrutiny as the snake had when he had been nailed to the door.** _

_**A sharp pain in her wrist forced her to look down. The snake had bitten her, its fangs driven deep into her flesh and she could feel the poison seep into her veins.** _

“ _ **Why?”**_

_**She collapsed as the poison did its duty and started killing her from the inside. The snake didn’t answer. It untangled itself from her and slithered away and into a corner of the hovel where a human skull sat gaping at the spectacle. The snake slipped between its teeth and the skull seemed even more surprised by this development.** _

_**Hermione was going to die, she realized as she rolled over as best as she could. If she was going to die she might as well be comfortable. She was facing the wall again, so, having nothing better to do except dying, stared at the wriggling writhing mess on the wall.** _

_**As she sank deeper and deeper into the abyss known as death the squiggles started to make a strange sort of sense.** _

_**I** _

_**Am** _

_**She shut her eyes, too tired to make sense of the rest when she felt a cold canine nose press against her cheek. It was the puppy, his head tilted to the side in a classic display of puppy confusion. ‘Who are you?’ Those puppy eyes asked.** _

_**She turned her attention back toward the wall.** _

_**I am Lord-** _

_**\--** _

It was the telephone that jerked Hermione into wakefulness. _What time is it?_ She wondered as she stumbled over to her desk and struggled to grab the receiver that had, somehow, gotten buried under stack and stacks of loose leaf paper.

“Hello?”

“Hermione?”

Ginny, it was Ginny, when was the last time Ginny had called her?

“Ginny? Yes, yes its me.”

“Where have you been? I have been trying to get you for the past hour.”

_The past hour?_ Hermione glanced at the wall clock. It was two in the afternoon. _I slept in?_ She thought, incredulous.

“Sorry Gin, I was asleep.”

“You were?” She sounded dubious, and Hermione couldn’t blame her. Hermione couldn’t believe it herself.

“I really was.”

There was a tired sigh on the other end of the line. “You know you make it really hard to be mad at you.”

_Mad?_

“Is this about Ron?”

“Ron?” She sounded confused. “Did something happen last night?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“I haven’t seen him since yesterday, when…”

“When what?”

“Well, I sent him over to remind you about Albus’ birthday party today.”

Hermione rubbed at her temples. “Al’s birthday, I completely forgot. I haven’t even picked out a gift yet.” Hermione groped around her cluttered desk in a desperate attempt to find her keys. “When is the party starting?”

“Now actually, Albus was just asking when his Aunt Hermione was going to get here. He misses you.”

“I know, I have been meaning to visit but I have just been…”

“Busy?” Ginny offered.

“Yes, busy.” It was a lame excuse and they both knew it. “But I have to get going if I am going to grab Albus’ gift before I head over.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I do, let me spoil my nephew a little.”

“Are you going to get him another encyclopedia set?”

“Albus loved those books!”

“Hermione he is turning seven, not seventy. Try for something a bit more… fun this time.”

“Books _are_ fun.”

“Not every child is as book hungry as Ro-” She fell silent.

“As Rose.” Hermione finished for her.

“Hermione-”

“I have to go. See you in an hour.”

“I didn’t mean-”

Hermione hung up before she could finish the sentence. She hovered over the phone trying desperately to relax as the tightness in her chest returned full force. _Get it together Hermione, you need to be collected today. For Albus._

She shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly released it.

_I am calm._

She opened her eyes slowly. While she might have been calm, she certainly didn’t feel any happier. Listlessly she grabbed her coat out from under her desk, tried to drag her fingers through her tangled mane in an attempt to establish some kind of order, and snatched her purse off of her book shelf.

Hermione was ready. With another deep breath she left the confines of her office, and stepped out into the world.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 The Velveteen Rabbit**

_August 21 1989 14:45_

_\--_

_Luna’s father gave her shoulder one last pat before he wandered, seemingly lost in his own house, through the crowd of crows._

_**Mourners dear.** _ _Her mother corrected her._

“ _Why are they mourning?”_

_A few guests who had heard her comment stared at her, aghast._

_**Because they don’t know any better, and do try not to speak aloud you are alarming your father.** _

_Well Luna certainly didn’t want to do that. She peaked over at the older man and saw him staring at her despite talking with a group of other people she vaguely recognized as second and third cousins._

_**He thinks I’m crazy doesn’t he?** _ _Luna thought sadly as she stroked her stuffed rabbit’s ears._

_**Your father would never think something so cruel about someone he loves so dearly. He thinks you simply don’t understand what has happened.** _

_**But it’s the other way around!** _

_Luna felt an icy arm wrap around her._ _**Adults can be silly sometimes, especially when they are hurting.** _

_**He wouldn’t be hurt if he was like me.** _

_**That is true my special girl.** _ _Now her mother sounded sad which was very confusing. Wasn’t being special a good thing? No. She answered herself as she remembered her very brief stints around the other children in the area. People didn’t like birds with shiny feathers when they didn’t have shiny feathers themselves._

_Luna looked down at her dress. Perhaps she shouldn’t have worn powder blue and silver today?_

“ _Luna.”_

_She peered up at a troll._

_**Luna you know she isn’t a troll, be kind to your Grandmother.** _

_Luna wondered how her mother couldn’t see it. The old woman was huge compared to her, and beautiful in the way of trolls with with rolls and rolls of fat, long yellow nails, and severe under bite._

“ _Yes?” She inquired politely in troll, which sounded very much like a guttural snort combined with a belch. The old woman flinched and gave a pained smile. Luna didn’t think her troll was THAT bad, but she had only just started learning so she supposed mistakes would be made. She tried again and the old woman rubbed at her temples._

“ _Luna, sweetie, why don’t you go and play outside for a while and let the big people talk.”_

_Luna had never met a troll that could speak perfect English before._

_**Luna!** _ _Her mother scolded. Shrugging the girl did as she was told and made her way outside, she liked it better outside anyway. The sky shimmered with a thousand colors, dinosaurs lumbered across her lawn, a dragonfly in full dragon shape landed on the low stone wall that circled the house with a mosquito in taloned paw. Yes outside was much more interesting. She vaguely wondered why others couldn’t see the things she could but quickly lost the thought when a small flock of plums flew past her head. In fact, everything seemed to be fleeing, even the giant tyrant lizards._

_**LUNA!** _ _Her mother screamed._ _**LUNA RUN!** _

_So Luna did, it was always best to follow a ghost’s advice, especially if they tell you to run._

_\--_

Hermione chewed her lip as she eyed her watch.

She was almost an hour late. _I shouldn’t have spent so long looking for my keys_ she mentally groused as she peered into each of the store front windows she passed. There had to be SOMETHING in one of the small shops that Albus would like. _It might be easier if I had time to go inside each one._

As it was she was running out of shops.

**THUMP.**

Hermione paused. Had she heard a thump just now? She peered around the busy street. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

**THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.**

She turned around. _Was that alley always there?_

_**THUMP- THUMP- THUMP-** _

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. As alleys went it wasn’t too terrible looking, she could see clear on through to the next street and it seemed well cared for. But what was that thumping? No one else seemed to be bothered by it despite how loud the sound was.

 _Someone might be in trouble._ She thought, mentally steeling herself as she stepped out of the light and into the shadowed alley way. It was like stepping into another world. The buildings loomed over her like sky scrapers even though they couldn’t have been more than a few stories high, and it was quiet. _No, not quiet, silent._ Where was the noise of the city? She glanced behind her for some reassurance that the busy street she had left was still there.

There remained the street, just as she had left it. _You are being silly_

_**Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump** _ _._

There was that sound again. _Only one way to find out what it is._

She ventured deeper into the alley. There were scattered trash bins waiting to be picked up, litter (which made her nose wrinkle), and graffiti. It was an appalling amount of graffiti, she decided, done in a garish shade of green. None of the graffiti made any sense. It was a bunch or strange squiggles over lapping one another. Memory nagged at her, where had she seen squiggles like that before?

Her eyes traced over the odd markings before falling on a crude drawing of a skull with what seemed to be a long tongue. _No… not a tongue… is that a snake?_

Hermione’s wrist gave a sudden and very painful throb. She hissed and cradled the appendage to her chest. _**A sharp pain in her wrist forced her to look down. The snake had bitten her, its fangs driven deep into her flesh and she could feel the poison seep into her veins.**_ She shook her head. _No, I have never even been near a snake in my life._

But the memory felt so raw, so real.

_**Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump.** _

The sound was behind her, still holding her sore wrist she turned to face a small shop.

_That couldn’t have been there before._

_**Borgin and Burke’s Serving the Occult Since 1891**_ announced the half rotted sign above the very beat up looking door. The sound was coming from beyond the door. With only the slightest bit of hesitation she pushed open the door with her good hand to enter the strangest shop she had ever seen in her life.

The interior was lit with gas lamps that looked to have come straight from the late eighteen hundreds. All of the furniture and the walls were done in various shades of green, none of which matched, but the lamps and the walls were normal looking compared to what they had on the shelves.

 _Eye of newt? Dog Tongue?_ She grimaced as she read a few of the labels on the jars on the shelves closest to her. She didn’t dare to read more after finding _Raccoon penis._ She turned to the other shelves, along one shelf hung bundles of dried herbs. _Wolfsbane. Mugwort. Anise. Witch Hazel. Catnip. Dragon’s Blood._ She shook her head to clear it. It was worse than walking through the perfume department in the mall. Below the herbs were bowls upon bowls of crystals in every color, shape, and shade imaginable.

She was about to reach for a dusky purple stone when the thumping started up again. Hermione slowly turned around to face a wall of animal skulls, their empty eyes watching her as she approached. A faint glimmer flashed in the eye of a skull that seemed to be canine-

Hermione screamed as the wall holding up the skulls shook violently and bones rained down on her. Long dead fangs caught on her hair and skin, horns slashed, and hooves smashed, as the incomplete skeletons attacked. Something large and heavy smashed into the side of her head, knocking her silly. She shut her eyes and screamed again.

“Fuck.” She vaguely heard someone swear. “For the love of the Mother Goddess _hold still_.”

As if she had no will of her own her muscles locked up and she vaguely heard the sound of bones rattling as they rubbed against one another. A hand roughly grabbed her wrist, and in a move that was pure instinct she jerked out and away from the powerful grip.

She heard a frustrated sigh and the hand returned, this time the touch was gentle.

“You are ok.” There was no warmth in the voice, none at all, but there was a confidence that could not be denied. If he said she was ok, she was ok. She slowly opened her eyes to meet the owner of the voice’s empty black gaze. She couldn’t help staring into those eyes, the animal skulls that surrounded them held more life in their empty sockets then his. It was as if he was hollow, there was simply no soul in those eyes.

 _Trick of the light._ She steadfastly told herself and looked away from his uncomfortable gaze to stare at every other aspect of his face. He was as beautiful as a Grecian statue and just as well formed. She found herself admiring the curve of his neck and blushed when she realized she wanted to suck on that long column of flesh.

“You seem to be fine.”

She was drawn away from her examination at the sound of his voice again.

“Oh! Yes I-”

His hand struck out, catching her left wrist and she had to resist the urge to yank it back. He was looking at her arm as intently as an art critic would look at a masterpiece to assure its authenticity.

“Something bit you.”

She glanced down. Directly over her wrist were two tiny puncture marks.

“I- I think a snake…” she trailed off. When HAD she got bitten? A vague memory of a shack in the woods and a snake and a skull floated across her mind’s eye. _Was it a dream?_

Slowly the stranger reached out with his free hand and with long elegant fingers brushed his fingertips over the wound. It was as if his fingertips were connected to a live wire. Something rushed through her body, something old, but young, as delicate as a spider’s web, but stronger then diamond, a contradiction, but the ultimate truth. Her knees buckled and she fell into the man, and before she fell into unconsciousness, she saw his hollow eyes light up with awe.

\--

_**Killing her was much harder than previously anticipated. But despite his fumbling the odd blond girl did not overtly struggle. He didn’t even have to tie her down. His knife was dull, that was the problem, and he had to saw at her neck to get it to split open.** _

_**He was a butcher. He didn’t care. The ritual had to be completed, and fast. The other boy had slipped away before he could complete drawing the runes on his body, despite having been blinded, and his mother… he did not expect her to find them and to fight as hard as she had.** _

_**She needn’t have died if she had only stayed away, as it was he had to kill her. She had seen his face… at least the face he currently wore. He couldn’t afford to let his vessel go. Not when such trouble went into it.** _

_**The girl twitched, causing the blood from her split neck to gush. His hands slipped under the torrent of red and he dropped the knife. He swore and released his grip on the girl’s long blonde hair, letting her slump to the cold ground. His fingers groped at the earth but instead of finding the handle of the dull knife, he found the soft velvet of the girl’s rabbit toy.** _

_**It felt like touching a live wire. The soul that resided inside it leapt at him ripping and tearing with the ferocity of a demon.** _ _You will not have my daughter._ _**The thing hissed, and it felt like two very large feet kicked him in the chest, he identified a cheap banishing ritual. It proved to be the soul’s undoing. There was nothing to cast out of the hosts body, just the hungry void, and he laughed as it was filled.** _

_**He stumbled away from the dying girl on the ground, sated and drunk on the power of a newly acquired soul. He only needed one after all, the girl, her body, her soul, was her problem. He didn’t realize until he was miles away that he still clutched the velveteen rabbit in his hand.** _

_**\--** _


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 The Boy Who Lived**

\--

_October 31 1987 19:00_

_Harry was running again. Normally it was an activity he enjoyed, but this time the stakes were just a bit higher. He had been paired with his cousin to go trick or treating this year in an attempt to get them to ‘bond’._

“ _If I had wanted to bond with a pig I would have gone to a farm.” Harry had muttered when his mother had turned away after announcing their pairing. He knew better then to voice that particular opinion on his cousin in front of his mother; he would be grounded for weeks._

_At least when he was grounded he didn’t have to go near his aunt and uncle’s house._

_Harry leapt over a low fence and skidded around old Mrs. Figg’s house, not daring to glance behind him. He might have shouted his thanks to every store in town for providing the food to make his cousin so damn fat if he wasn’t afraid of revealing his location to Dudley’s other, much faster, friends._

_Harry Hunting was a game Dudley and his friend Piers had recently come up with. As of the last month, every time the adults would get together to sit down and chat (or more accurately, his mother and aunt would talk and his father and uncle would awkwardly glare at one another) Dudley would simper about wanting to take his ‘little cousin’ to the park for some fun. His mother bought it every time._

_He didn’t know how Dudley managed it, but he always seemed to be able to wrangle his friends from the surrounding houses into joining in on harassing Harry for hours. The worse part was he couldn’t say a word about it to his parents._

_His mother and aunt had only just started to rebuild the very broken bridge of their relationship, and Harry didn’t dare risk ruining it, not when he saw how happy it made her. He didn’t much care for the horsy faced blond woman, but for his mother he would at least try to get along with her. That meant pretending that he and his cousin got along._

_He made another sharp turn and all but crashed into the stranger standing in the middle of the street. The last thing he saw before the acid hit his face was the figure wearing a white skull mask and a long black cape._

_\--_

Hermione jerked awake and flinched back from the hand holding the small bag under her nose. It only took her seconds to recognize him and remember where she was. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the hollow eyed man, whose strange black eyes seemed to hold more color then they had before, and the bag of the foul smelling stuff in his palm.

“What on _earth_ is that?”

He cocked his head to the side, much like a curious bird. “Salt of hartshorn.”

“ _Smelling salts?_ ”

His thin lips pulled back into a tiny smile. “Yes, very good.”

“You gave me a Victorian era treatment for fainting women?”

He gave a tiny shrug. The action seemed to take years off of him and she was suddenly reminded of a young Ron. “People still use smelling salts today.” He leaned in and again she was very much reminded of a curious bird. _A crow if anything._ “I have never had a woman actually faint on me before; did my touch stimulate you so badly?”

Her cheeks turned red. “It was _stress._ ” She spat. “Why don’t you go stand under a wall of skulls and let me push them on top of you.”

He leaned back looking completely flabbergasted. “You think I pushed the wall on top of you?”

“Well-”

He didn’t give her time to answer.

“I didn’t even know there was anyone in the store, the front door was locked.” He cocked his head again. “Are you a burglar?”

She gaped at him. “Who would want to steal anything from this place?”

“Some of the things we carry are very valuable to the right person, but its rare common people can tell the difference between their true value and what it is monetarily worth. But now you have me confused, if you find no value in the objects we have, why did you come inside?”

“I thought I heard a… a thumping.”

He stared at her, and she bit her lip. _I sound crazy._

“You could hear that?” His eyes narrowed. “Ah, I see it now. You are like a walking void of pain and suffering.”

Suddenly she felt very heavy. “I am not a void, I am fine.”

“Clearly you are not.”

She forced herself to her feet, taking note that she was now on a worn couch instead of in a pile of bones. _He had to have carried me._ Hermione knew she was no light weight, and the fact that he had tried to make her comfortable cooled her temper.

“Even if I was in pain it’s none of your business, now I am sorry about your display, I don’t know what happened to make it fall, and I didn’t know you were closed. I thought that someone might have been hurt because of that thumping and now that I know I was wrong I can leave.”

Her legs wobbled but to her surprise he caught her when she fell. “Apparently not.” He drawled.

He was warm, and he smelt like fresh herbs and dust. She shook her head, she was not some silly school girl, she was a mother in mourning and a divorcee on top of it, and she didn’t have the time or the energy to put into another man. Especially a man as strange as he was… no matter how nice he smelled, or how his neck was perfect for sucking.

“But I have to go.”

“To?”

“My nephew, well former nephew really, but… it’s his birthday. I promised I would be there.”

“I can take you. It would be no trouble.”

“No, no I can take myself. It’s not very far, I will be fine.”

He quirked an eyebrow and stepped away from her. Her knees wobbled again but she managed to hold herself up. “See, I am fine.”

“Walk.”

“Pardon?”

“Walk. If you can manage to get to the front door, then I will drop the matter and let you go without escort.”

She made half a step toward a small door that she assumed led out before she stumbled again. His smirk when she ended up in his arms again infuriated her.

“I will take you.” He said and before she could protest he had lifted her again. He was stronger than his lean figure suggested.

“You can’t just carry me through town!”

“I wasn’t planning on it. I do have the ability to drive, Hermione.”

“But I didn’t see any car in the alley…”

He snorted. “Ah that would explain why I found you in the store room.”

“Store room?”

Without missing a beat he opened the small door she had attempted to walk through and into the strange dark room filled with the even stranger odds and ends. Her gaze lingered on the large pile of animal skulls scattered across the floor.

“Yes. You didn’t think this was the shop proper did you? I would get no business if that were the case.”

She blushed and decided silence would be the best course of action.

“Back in the forties, when this place was still owned by Borgan and Burke, they kept the back door as the main entrance, despite all the new buildings cropping up. Stubborn old fools refused to renovate and they lost business because people simply couldn’t find the place, and those who could did not want to travel through shady back alleys to get to a second rate curio store.”

“Did they sell it to you?”

He quirked an eyebrow “How old do I look?”

Not much older than she did. “Right, silly question.”

“No question is silly if it gets you to your desired answer.”

The man carefully made his way through the now chaotic storeroom to another door she had not seen on her initial visit. She blinked away from the bright sunlight that suddenly assaulted her senses.

The room that was revealed was colorful to say the least. Crystals were hung from the windows and in the light they sparkled and cast rainbow patterns on the warm wooden floors. A few wicker baskets held herbs of all kinds, candles and incense took up an entire wall of the store, and a few scattered tables held odds and ends she had no names for. Although something inside her jumped in excitement at the sight of a table filled with books.

She liked it. She was drawn from her observation when he spoke again.

“To answer your previous question, Borgan sold it to my uncle, who then… passed it on to me.”

There seemed to be something missing from his answer. Something he was holding back.

“Did he pass away?”

He grimaced. “That is a complicated question.”

“Is it?”

His dark eyes, which looked warm and grey in the light of the store, seemed to tear through her very soul.

“What causes you so much pain your very soul has become a void?”

It was her turn to grimace.

“It’s not a complicated answer, but all the same I would rather not answer.”

He stopped only briefly to grab a set of keys from behind the cashier’s counter and with a quick bit of rearranging (she insisted on being put down so he could properly lock up, and he insisted on carrying her to his car) they were on their way.

“You keep talking about my soul as if it is a thing you can see.” She finally dared speak after they were comfortably underway.

“Who’s to say I can’t?”

“A soul isn’t something you can see… most days I wonder if it exists at all.”

He glanced briefly over at her before returning his gaze to the road.

“There is an old saying, that the eyes are the window to the soul. It is truer then you know. Most people have a vague understanding of what they are seeing when they look into another’s eyes. I, on the other hand, can read people like you might read a book.”

She snorted. “I can’t believe _you_ can believe in such things.”

“And you know me so well?”

“…point.”

“I dare say you don’t even know my name.”

Horror raced through her as her situation suddenly hit home. What had she been thinking? She was in a strange car with a strange man. He could take her anywhere, he could do anything to her, she couldn’t even run away if she wanted to. Her files drifted across her mind’s eye. Hermione knew, perhaps better than most, what happened to the innocent and the unwary.

The man cringed as if something pained him.

“Relax, if I meant you any harm I would have done so while you were unconscious.”

“You could be taking me somewhere else to kill me.”

She tried to make it sound like she was joking, she failed miserably. He looked over at her again.

“Death unnerves me, if it is all the same let us avoid it. But if you truly wish me too I can pull over now.”

“No, no I am fine.” She glanced out the window. So far he had been following the directions she had given him before they had left flawlessly. She felt silly and almost shy when she dared to look at him again. He had been nothing but kind to her, and patient. She on the other hand had broken into his building, all but accused him of trying to kill her, and had been acting the most belligerent and stubborn she had been in a very long time. If anyone had any reason to cast doubt on another person’s character, it was this stranger on her. “I am sorry.”

“There is no reason to apologize, believe me meeting you has been a very… enlightening experience.”

“Enlightening?”

“Yes, without you I never would have learned that the screws holding the bone wall up were loose.”

Without her volition he hand lashed out to smack him playfully on the shoulder, as if he were Harry or any number of the Weasley boys. As if she had known him for years. She was ready to apologize when he laughed. It was an odd laugh, full of little stops hesitations as if his throat had forgotten just how to make this strange joyous sound. She didn’t realize she had been staring at him until he spoke again.

“We are here, at least I assume so. Balloons on a mailbox are usually an indicative of a party.”

Hermione blinked and looked around. Sure enough they had pulled into the driveway of the Potter home.

“Yes, this is the place.”

She made no move to leave; she was surprised at her own reluctance to leave this strange new man. _I haven’t wanted anyone near me in over a year. But I don’t want him to go._

“Do you need me to walk you to the door?”

“If you would like to.”

“I would.”

He came to her side of the car, opened her door, and offered her his arm. His grey eyes seemed to find an added spark when she touched him and she found herself blushing, again. _We have only just met, where is this feeling coming from?_

“I never did ask,” she murmured as he rang the bell. “But what is your name?”

“I am-”

_**I AM-** _

_**I AM-** _

_**I AM-** _

Her head felt like it was going to split open, she was falling, she was dying. The last thing she saw was the surprised look in Ginny’s eyes as she collapsed.

\--

_**She was tangled in a rose bush. The long tendrils of the plant had woven themselves around her in a protective, possessive, embrace. But she couldn’t move, and every time she tried the thorns dug into her unprotected skin.** _

“ _ **Hold on, let me get you out.”**_

_**It was a little boy, he couldn’t have been more than four years old at the most, but for some reason she was reassured by his words.** _

“ _ **Please help, I have no idea how long I have been tangled here.”**_

_**The boy pulled out a large pair of pruning shears. “Years it seems, considering the growth, but plants grow funny here so it might not have been that long at all.” His warm brown eyes considered her. “Hold still and I will cut you free.”** _

“ _ **Please don’t damage the plant, I have put a lot of time into it.”**_

_**The boy cocked his head to the side as he considered the challenge in front of him before he got to work. Hermione didn’t know how long it actually took, but it felt like hours before she was free. But the boy didn’t stop at that, he cut and cut and cut until the rose bush was set to rights.** _

“ _ **There we go, now it should be much more manageable as long as you don’t let it get out of control again.”**_

“ _ **I don’t know how to thank you.”**_

“ _ **I wouldn’t mind some of that tea.”**_

_**Hermione blinked, when had that tea set gotten there?** _

_**She shrugged and put it out of her mind as she took a seat at the tiny table.** _

“ _ **Please help yourself.”**_

_**She told the strange blond boy who was already helping himself to a jam filled biscuit.** _

“ _ **We have a lot to talk about Hermione.” The boy said when he had finished his treat.**_

“ _ **Do we?” She asked, slightly dazed as a wolf puppy wandered into the warm garden scene, sniffing at this and that plant with great interest.**_

“ _ **Don’t you dare lift a leg to my azaleas.” The boy warned the cub. The wolf bore his teeth at the youngster in a playful puppy grin before bedding down in a cluster of clover.**_

_**With slow meaningful steps a silver rabbit hopped into the garden and nestled down next to the wolf cub who took a great interest in washing its long ears. The boy at the table sighed. “Don’t you encourage him.”** _

_**The rabbit’s nose twitched as if it were laughing.** _

“ _ **What an odd bunch you are.” Hermione muttered as a stick of butter flew past her head. She deftly caught it in one hand and started to butter a piece of bread in front of her.**_

“ _ **We might not be so odd if we could cross over.”**_

“ _ **Cross over?”**_

“ _ **Yes, you see we are trapped here. We can’t go back, and we can’t go on, much like yourself, except you are not dead yet.”**_

“ _ **I can leave anytime I want.” She protested.**_

“ _ **Then why did I have to get you out of that bush just now?”**_

“ _ **I just needed more time to work out how to get out.”**_

“ _ **If you waited any longer then there would have been nothing anyone could have done to get you back. Face facts, you were never looking for a way to get free in the first place, you were just trying to get yourself more tangled.”**_

“ _ **Why would I want to do that?”**_

“ _ **How should I know, it’s your problem. I am just a gardener, and for now Rose is back in order.”**_

_**What an odd way of phrasing it Hermione thought as a creeping tendril of the rose bush wrapped itself around her ankle. Although she thought she should, she did not shake it loose.** _

_**The boy had apparently noticed as well and shook his head in exasperation** _

“ _ **Stop your creeping and grow somewhere else,” he told the vine sternly, “I know you haven’t been here long but even you must know what damage you are doing.” The vine retreated, but Hermione wished it hadn’t, she was very fond of that plant and missed its touch.**_

“ _ **Why are you all stuck here?”**_

“ _ **Because of the soul eater.”**_

_**Suddenly the sky turned dark and grey, the wolf pup growled, and the rabbit ran. The boy’s eyes were deadly serious.** _

“ _ **The soul eater?”**_

“ _ **It’s the most accurate way to describe him. He eats living souls to give himself more power to wreak havoc on the mortal world. He ate us.”**_

“ _ **You don’t seem eaten to me.”**_

“ _ **He ate our energy and left us like this. We are without our Light.”**_

“ _ **Light?”**_

“ _ **It’s what lets us move on, or come back as ghosts, sometimes it even drags us to hell. As it is, we have energy to do nothing except remain here… and talk to you.”**_

_**Hermione blinked in surprise when the wolf prowled over and reached up to touch the boy with a paw. He sighed.** _

“ _ **I know Teddy, I am getting to that.”**_

“ _ **Getting to what?”**_

“ _ **What we need you to do. If we are ever going to get a chance to escape this place, then we need you to destroy the soul eater.”**_

_**Hermione fell from her chair.** _

__**I AM  
I AM   
I AM**

_**The boy flinched in surprise.** _

“ _ **What on earth have you done to yourself?”**_

_**He slowly walked over to her, slowly crouching down to grab her wrist. Branded on her left arm was a skull and snake tattoo she had never seen before.** _

“ _ **Tom.” The boy said darkly. “I was wondering where he got to.”**_

“ _ **Tom?”**_

“ _ **He was the one of the few living souls here. He had his light, but he refused to leave. It seems he has attached himself to you and piggybacked his way to a human body. Fool,” the boy spat. “He is older than I am, he should have known better.” He looked down at Hermione as if she had become something disgusting.**_

“ _ **Go away, I need time to think.”**_

_**With a wave of his hand the garden disappeared, and she fell until she was caught by invisible hands. She was surrounded by black when the silver rabbit appeared.** _

“ _ **Before you go I have one last thing for you to hear.” The voice came from the rabbit, and it was old and tired “Remember that sometimes we have to make very hard choices to protect the ones we love, and that some of those choices cause us to do the unthinkable.”**_

_**\--** _

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 Devil Snare**

\--

_October 31 1983 23:45_

_Neville curled up under the dogwood tree and tried to pretend he didn’t exist. His uncle was out there somewhere, he knew it, and he had heard him laugh in their family lounge over his much beloved drinks._

“ _He can’t come out to the garden. He can’t.” He muttered as he tried to soothe himself by rocking back and forth. It had been almost a year since his uncle had last come over; it had been only a week since his back brace had been taken off._

“ _I bet with all that fat you would just bounce.” He still remembered the drunken leer his uncle gave him as he grabbed his tiny arm in an impossibly strong grip. “Let’s find out eh?”_

_Before that day heights had not bothered Neville, now he refused to even go one foot off of level ground. His grandmother might have forgotten that the older man had tossed her pudgy grandson out a window, but Neville remembered, and he refused to be under the same roof as the man._

_As if they heard his plight the plants rustled with gusto and he couldn’t help but smile._

_After they had put him in his back brace, he had been unable to keep up with the other local children, and they, being children, did not wait for him to. He remembered being so dreadfully lonely he considered tossing himself out the window again to finish the job._

_His garden has saved his life._

_Growing things, encouraging the fragile new life to sprout and bloom into something beautiful filled him with hope. “You are still young,” his father has said. “Like these seeds, and one day you will sprout and bloom into something beautiful.” Neville hoped so. If plain little seeds could become something so grand as a tiger-lily or even as sun sweet as a strawberry, that would be just fine in his book._

_But now that his uncle was back, he felt very much like a bud, cut before it even had a chance to flower. He curled into a tighter ball and tried to keep from weeping._

_He didn’t even hear the footsteps until it was too late._

_\--_

When Hermione awoke she was on yet another couch. Harry was sitting next to her, holding her hand in a death grip, Ginny was sobbing on the phone to someone, and the three Potter children were huddled around the stranger, who was talking to them in low soothing tones. Harry jerked as soon as she twitched.

“She is awake!”

She was swarmed , first by a sobbing Ginny, then by the Potter trio who attacked her with questions. What had happened, had she died, who was the strange man with her, was he a prince (From Lily) was he her boyfriend (From James) did he want cake (from Albus).

“Let Aunt Hermione breathe.” Harry said firmly, his eyes, lime green from his blindness, were stern.

The children obliged but it took a minute more for Ginny to untangle herself. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to come,” she sniffed.

“Gin, it’s not your fault.”

“It feels like my fault. I was horrible to you over the phone too.”

“It’s ok.” She repeated. “All you did was say Rose’s name, its… its fine to talk about her.”

Both the Potter’s stared at her, surprised.

“That… isn’t the response I was expecting.” Harry said cautiously. Hermione internally winced, she had been dreadful to Harry and Ginny the past year and a half. Worse than dreadful, she had been absent, and every time they tried to reach out to her, she had screamed at them.

She shut her eyes, and tried to collect herself. The pain was coming back, she could feel her chest tightening and her hands trembling, she might have started to cry when suddenly her grief was cut short. She saw a rose bush in bloom in her mind’s eye followed by the stern brown eyed glare of a blond four year old.

“ _ **Enough of that.”**_ The boy snapped. _**“You can work through your grief later.”**_

She opened her eyes. _Wasn’t he only a dream?_

“You don’t know _everything_ about me Harry Potter.” If he did he would realize she was going insane and have her locked up. Who else dreamed of snarky dead children, talking rabbits, and an over grown rose bush in their waking hours?

He peered off to the side.

“Clearly not.”

Hermione turned to look at what he was glancing at and blinked in surprise. How could she have forgotten about her stranger? He was seated in the darkest corner of the Potter’s living room, staring intently at the family photos across the fireplace mantle. As if he was aware of the sudden attention on him he turned to stare back at Harry’s blind gaze. For a moment their eyes met and Hermione could have sworn that they were look directly at one another.

“Who is he Hermione? Your boyfriend?” Ginny whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating again?”

“It’s been a recent thing.” Hermione said carefully. “I got dizzy when I was visiting his shop and he told me he didn’t want me walking all the way here alone.”

Her stranger tilted his head to the side, and to her astonishment Harry copied him.

“Tom!” She called out.

He blinked in surprise and shook his head as if clearing it. “Yes Hermione?”

“Come over here and meet my friends.”

It took him only a few strides to reach her side. He towered over everyone but unlike a lot of other tall people she knew he didn’t bother stooping to make himself seem shorter. He had perfect posture she idly noted as she gently pulled her hand away from Harry’s to slip it into Tom’s.

She felt a smaller version of the jolt that had knocked her silly pass between them and Tom smirked down at her.

“So just what are you to our Hermione?”

“ _Harry!”_ Ginny growled.

“Lovers, naturally.”

“ _Tom!”_ Hermione didn’t think she had ever been so red in her life.

“Do you plan to do right by her?”

“ _Harry!_ ” Ginny hissed.

“I dare say that I shall do whatever she wishes me to do.”

Harry laughed. “Spoken like a true man in love.”

Ginny pulled her husband up. “Ok that is enough out of you, we are going to go wrangle our children. Hermione, you and Tom take as much time as you need before joining the party- you are staying Tom?”

“If Hermione wishes me to.”

Ginny nodded and pulled a protesting Harry out the sliding glass door that led to their back yard.

“Well, from strangers to long term lovers in one afternoon. We certainly work fast don’t we?”

“Tom what possessed you to tell them we were lovers?”

“I thought it would be the fastest way to get them to stop asking questions. Although I am quite impressed you managed to remember my name despite fainting again.”

She shook her head. “We could have just told them the truth.”

“Now where would the fun in that be?”

Hermione sighed and leaned back on the worn pillows of the comfy scarlet couch. “You don’t have to stay you know.”

“I do, but I haven’t had such fun in a very long time, and I am growing rather fond of catching you when you fall.”

“Don’t get used to it, today is the first time I have fallen in a long time.”

“If you say so, shall we join the party or would you like to remain here?”

“The party.”

He helped her up and let her find her balance. “Thank you.” She grumbled as she leaned against his lean figure.

“No, thank you. Because of this experience I now know the joys and the sorrows of being a walking stick.”

She resisted the urge to slap him and instead glared as deeply as she could which, to her astonishment, only made him laugh that odd jerky laugh of his.

“You are so strange.”

“You don’t know the half of it… or perhaps you do and it’s the other half that perplexes you.”

She shook her head as Tom led her into the back yard. The party was obviously winding down. The children were scattered to the winds, James was snacking on the half eaten cake, Lily and a few of her friends were sitting the giant inflatable bounce house chatting, Albus was grinning like a loon over a stack of recently opened gifts and one of his friends, a boy named Scorpius, was trying to get him into open one of his new games. The parents who dared to linger were sitting around a stone fire pit, keeping a wary eye on their youngsters but they were obviously relaxed.

Albus was the first to notice her.

“Aunt Hermione!” He bounded over to her, three of his friends hot on his heels. “Are you feeling better? Can I have my present now?”

She paled. Albus’ gift, she had completely forgotten. Tom subtly leaned into her side and she felt something fall into her pocket. She glanced over at him, but he seemed to be in a staring contest with the Malfoy boy. She reached into her pocket and felt something smooth attached to something… leather?

She slowly pulled it out. It was a bracelet made of black leather, and, woven into that leather, were iridescent white stones with wolves carved into them. Albus’ eyes went wide.

“Is that for me?”

She looked over at Tom who gave a very small nod.

“Yes, Happy birthday.”

“Cool!” He all but snatched it out of her grip and started to examine it closely, his friends crowded around to admire it along with him.

She leaned into Tom. “I owe you.” She whispered.

“Fifty six ninety seven.” He whispered back. She gaped at him, he winked at her.

“Hey Hermione, what’s it made out of?”

“Moonstone.” Tom fielded the question, to her relief. “Some people believe it helps the wearer understand themselves better.”

Albus carefully measured him up.

“You were the one telling us stories earlier.”

“Yes I was.”

“Who are you?”

“A wandering spirit who has managed to find himself trapped inside his own body once again.”

Something about that sentence caught every fiber of Hermione’s attention. She had the very urgent feeling that she was forgetting something very important. Albus did not look impressed with the answer.

“Why do adults try and be funny all the time?”

“I think they think they are funny.” Scorpius added.

At Tom’s put out look Hermione snorted. “Why don’t you kids go and play and I will take this _wandering spirit_ to get some of that cake.”

They didn’t need to be told twice, after Albus slipped his new bracelet on the boys were off. Tom smiled as he watched them go, but there was a strange glimmer in his eye when his gaze fell on Albus. It was not a kind look, it was… excited, and Hermione was instantly ill at ease.

“Hey,” she nudged him. “Cake?”

He blinked, confused, but then his lazy smile returned. “Sounds good to me, I haven’t had sweets in years.”

Hermione watched Tom for the next hour like a hawk. He wasn’t doing anything strange, he ate , he chatted with the other adults with ease, he told terrible jokes that had the children rolling their eyes- but there was something wrong. Some deep sixth sense she had was screaming at her to be careful, don’t let Tom out of her sight.

But almost against her will, as the sun started to set and everyone gathered around the fire pit to roast marshmallows, she found her guard relaxing. It was easy to be around Tom, and his quiet charm, his odd way of speaking, and his combined sent of dust and dried herbs put her at ease. Nothing was happening. _Nothing is going to happen. You are just being paranoid Hermione._ She nestled into Tom’s side and let herself enjoy the fire, soon its warmth and the gentle chatter around them lulled her into a light doze, and finally, she fell fully asleep.

\--

_**The boy was pacing in front of her again, his brown eyes glimmering with rage.** _

“ _ **What’s wrong?”**_

_**His head jerked at the sound of her voice.** _

“ _ **Hermione, it’s about time you got here, I have been trying to call you for hours.”**_

“ _ **I left my phone back home.”**_

_**The boy rolled his eyes. “Not that kind of call. You ARE aware you are dreaming yes?”** _

“ _ **Am I?”**_

“ _ **You know I assumed you had a brain between your ears, it’s why I picked you over all the others, but all you have done is ignore our warnings, block us out, and choose to flat out deny we exist. I understand skepticism, I expected it even, but you are just so- so – un-open to the supernatural!”**_

“ _ **Because it doesn’t exist and if I am dreaming you are just a construct of my imagination.”**_

“ _ **I AM HERE. I EXIST.” He suddenly shrieked and the area around them darkened immensely. “And you still deny, deny, deny. What is WRONG with you, how can I make you see?” He pulled at his own hair. “I would give anything to just find another medium, but we have invested so much in you, and Tom… well he singed you and yours fate when he branded you.”**_

_**Her arm itched.** _

“ _ **Want to know the worse part? Some aspect of you believes all of this, it’s why I can even call you in the first place, it’s why Teddy was able to fetch you out of the dreaming and into our world, and it’s why Tom was able to latch onto you like a fucking leach and escape back into the real world.”**_

“ _ **Why do you hate Tom so much?”**_

_**The boy gave a bitter laugh. “After that long rant that is what you ask me? Why do I hate Tom?” He waved a hand and the garden from before appeared around them, although the sky was overcast and grey. “Because he is a liar, selfish, and has the capacity for great cruelty when crossed. You just haven’t been on the receiving end quite yet because he needs you. But for what I do not know.”** _

“ _ **You shouldn’t be so quick to judge him, he has been nothing but kind especially to me. He even gave me a moonstone bracelet for Albus!”**_

“ _ **What did you say?” The boy’s eyes were suddenly intense.**_

“ _ **I said he has been nothing but kind-“**_

“ _ **No about the moonstone!”**_

“ _ **He gave a moonstone bracelet to Albus?”**_

“ _ **Albus who?”**_

“ _ **Albus Potter.”**_

_**The boy swore loudly. “So that’s his game. Hermione, I need you to listen and listen well because you can’t afford to ignore me this time. Albus is in danger, wake up NOW and when we call listen.”** _

_**\--** _


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 Tom Gaunt**

\--

_December 31 1975 12:00_

_Tom did not come from a normal family._

_His uncle, mother, even his grandfather, were all self-appointed witches and they didn’t bother hiding that fact. If Tom had been allowed to go to school he might have been worried about the other children thinking he was a witch too, but seeing as how he didn’t go to school, and didn’t plan on going either, his worries were formless. As it was most of the little village considered him a friendly, if odd, homeschooled boy who hung around the busy streets of Little Haggleton. A completely harmless, even benign, figure._

_It was rare these days if anyone spoke to him at all, and when they did it was usually questions about his clothes. Adults would ask they asked why he constantly wore his clothes inside out, and Tom would simply grin and ask why they didn’t. The adults had found it quite funny and the occasional peer who dared speak to him found it confusing, both would stop asking. Tom was just glad no one saw the pentagrams his mother sewed into the fronts of his shirts._

_She claimed it was to protect him, they hadn’t worked yet._

_At least he could hide that aspect of his fragile existence, and on most days people forgot he belonged to the strange tramps that lived in a shack in the local woods. At least until spirits or demons or madness overtook his uncle and grandfather and they forced him to march into town with them to spread the word of the Horned God and the Mother Goddess._

_Tom had tried to resist going with them at first, and not even beatings and screamings and starvings had gotten him to go to face the public that tolerated him, laughed with him, and occasionally took pity on him._

_That was when they found his weakness… his mother._

_In his stead they beat her, threatened her, and once his Uncle even raped her in front of him to get him to obey their strange and twisted demands. It wasn’t right what they did, he knew it, his mother knew it, although she never said a word about it, and often he wondered if the Goddess was real, and if she condoned such things from her devoted followers._

_Tom had just come home after a long day of doing absolutely nothing in town ( well not all nothing he had managed to convince the cute blond girl down the way to kiss him.) only to find his mother bound and gagged on the floor, this in itself was not too alarming. But then his eyes adjusted and he saw the walls._

_Serpents, rows and rows of them were nailed to the walls, some were still alive and these writhed and twisted to escape their fate._

“ _What’s going on?”_

_His grandfather looked saner then Tom had ever seen him. “Morfin is going to die.”_

_Tom might have been gleeful if not for the snakes and his mother. If Tom ever saw any kind of snake he knew it was trouble, the snakes always came before the madness hit. He mentally steeled himself for another night of chicken killing._

“ _I’m sorry.” Tom said cautiously._

“ _There is no reason to be sorry boy, his soul will live on.” It was then his uncle seized him. “Through you, do not struggle, this must be just right.” Tom ignored him and thrashed like his life depended on it, which, to his horror, it did._

“ _So much as twitch and your mother does worse than die.”_

_So Tom had a choice. Himself, or her, and he was very seriously considering picking himself. He was not inclined towards selfless sacrifice for any reason. But his mother had sheltered him, loved him despite all of his flaws, of which there were many, she had always made sure he was fed, clothed, and in her own way she had always tried to protect him._

“ _Mother.” He hissed in the special language they had come up with together to work past his slurred S’s as a child. “I am going to do this one last thing for you, after I do, I want you to run as fast and as far as you can. You will not owe me anything; I will not owe you anything just… run away and do not come back.”_

_He had never seen his mother cry before, but now she cried, distorting her already crossed eyes even more badly._

“ _I will make you a deal. Turn my mother loose and I will do whatever you wish.”_

_The men exchanged glanced before shrugging and cutting his mother free. “Get out useless girl.”_

_She hovered in the threshold of the door, one foot in sunlight, one in darkness. Tom met her gaze sternly. “Go.” He mouthed, and, as she had done her entire life, she obeyed. That was the last memory he had of his mother, and he treasured it as much as he loathed it._

_Tom held still when they stripped him, and went even stiller when they cut into his skin, covering it in old runes, he hardly heard them as they chanted, only just registered the stones they dragged over his skin, and clenched his teeth against the stinging of the freshly chewed herbs stuffed into his wounds. As soon as the last syllable left their lips Tom found himself looking down at his body._

_Then he began to panic._

_He still felt a vague connection to it, but it was distant. His body was empty, but if he wanted he could fill it again, he WANTED to be inside his own body again; but before he even had the chance to try, his grandfather cut his uncles throat. The inky blackness of hi uncle’s soul spilled into Tom’s young body. He could only watch in muted horror as his body moved without his permission, blinked, smiled a small twisted smile._

_His grandfather then addressed the room._

“ _If you ever try and return Tom, and I know you are still there, we will find your mother. This body belongs to Morfin.”_

“ _How do we know he doesn’t come back?” Tom Gaunt’s mouth moved without his volition and he was sure if he was capable he would have been sick. His grandfather grabbed at a crystal around his neck and closed his eyes._

_Tom only realized what he was going to do seconds after his grandfather’s soul stepped out of his body. He didn’t get the chance to run before the old man caught Tom’s soul with practiced ease._

“ _A snake? I know just what to do with you.”_

_A hammer and nail appeared out of the either and Tom couldn’t stop screaming as his soul was fastened to the wall of the shack. Here he would remain for almost three decades, watching, waiting, for his chance to strike back._

_His chance came when the wolf child led the bushy haired woman to his prison and to his astonishment she freed him without prompting._

_Their souls touched- a more intimate meeting than any other in existence- and he knew everything about her, her name, her job, her grief, how she had grown and lived and learned- and on some level she knew him too. He made sure of it. Without a second thought he had imprinted himself on her subconscious as soon as his venom started to course through her, and forever he would be a part of her and she would be a part of him._

_He knew the risks of such bonds._

_He didn’t care._

_He and his self-chosen soul mate would seek their revenge together if it was the last thing they did._

_\--_

Hermione jerked awake, urgency pulsing through her veins. She was in the Potter guest room, but she had gone to asleep outside hadn’t she? Someone must have carried her inside. _Tom, where is Tom?_

Her arm throbbed and somehow she knew he was not in the house. She all but leapt out of the bed and bolted for the door. Despite the darkness Hermione knew the route to the children’s rooms well after years of visits and slumber parties and babysitting. Albus’ door was on the first floor, the last door on the right. She threw open the door, found the light very quickly and flipped it on.

Albus wasn’t in the room.

Holding back a scream she stumbled back and away from the empty room. _This isn’t happening, not again._ She closed her eyes. _Calm down, check the other kids rooms, check the house, he might be up still._

She checked Lily’s room next, but the little girl was safely under her covers, clutching a lion plush toy. But there was no Albus, next she rushed to James’ room, the boy jerked in surprise at her sudden entrance. He was sitting on top of his bed, some kind of video game remote in hand.

“Aunt Hermione- I, er, I was just about to get into bed I-”

“James-”

“ _Fine_ you got me, just don’t tell mum.”

“James, when was the last time you saw your brother?”

The boy frowned as he thought. “Well, when Uncle Ron came over I think.”

“Ron?” She didn’t remember seeing him at the party.

“Yeah, he said he wasn’t’ going to be able to show up because he had to work, but he showed up just when all the little kids went home. Albus was really excited.” James frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“How long ago was this?”

“I dunno-”

She didn’t give him time to finish, she raced out of his room and headed toward the master bed room. She sent a silent prayer that Ginny and Harry had decided not to be intimate and threw open the door. Ginny didn’t stir, but Harry did.

He was instantly awake, leaping out of bed with catlike grace and grabbing a long cane leaning against his bedside table. To her surprise he pulled off the handle to reveal a hidden blade, she had to take a step back to avoid being hit as he slashed at the air in her direction.

“Harry! Harry it’s me!”

He blinked then squinted as if he were trying to make out her form against the darkness.

“Hermione?”

She sighed in relief. “Dear God Harry you could put someone’s eye out with that thing.”

“Well it wouldn’t matter much in my case either way.” He said sheepishly and sheathed the blade. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but you did just burst into my bedroom.”

“We can worry about explanations later, Albus is missing.”

His expression turned deadly serious. “Wake Ginny, I will search the house.”

“I checked the kid’s rooms already, he wasn’t there. James was awake but he said he hasn’t seen Albus since Ron came over.”

Harry nodded and bolted from the room, moving as well as a sighted man through the familiar halls of his family home. Hermione went to Ginny’s side and shook her awake.

“Hermione? What’s going on, where’s Harry?”

She quickly explained and not even a second later Ginny was charging for the door, Hermione hot on her heels.

“ALBUS! ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER! I SWEAR BY ALL THAT IS HOLY IF YOU ARE HIDING FROM ME YOU WILL GET THE HIDING OF YOUR LIFE!”

Ginny sounded so much like her mother in that moment that Hermione might have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. Her shouting though turned up nothing except for a confused James and a sleepy Lily.

“Waz goin on?”

The little girl asked sleepily.

“Have either of you seen your brother?”

Lily shook her head.

“Not since uncle Ron came.” Fear flashed across the boy’s face. “This is like what happened to Rose isn’t it?”

Lily’s face turned white and her lower lip trembled. “I don’t want Alby to go moma.” She whined. Ginny’s face looked just as white as her daughter’s did as she gathered her little girl into her arms.

“Alby will be fine Lily-flower. We just need to find him.”

Just at that moment Harry rushed over to them.

“I looked everywhere, Albus isn’t in the house.”

Lily started to wail, and Ginny automatically rocked to soothe her.

“Ron told me he put him to bed before he left, so he had to have been fine at eleven.”

_**Hermione.** _

She jerked at the sound of the voice, but the Potter’s didn’t notice.

“I will call him, Ginny you get the police on the line. Hermione if you are feeling up to it can you search the surrounding area?”

Hermione gave a sharp nod and raced for the front doors.

_**When you exit the doors your escort will be waiting.** _

_I don’t have time. Albus is missing._

_**We know daft girl, and we know how to find him. Follow the damned rabbit.** _

She burst out the front doors and looked quickly around. Under a bush by the driveway was a silver iridescent rabbit. The rabbit’s ear twitched in acknowledgement and she bounded away, and Hermione was hot on her heels.

 _Did Tom have anything to do with this?_ She thought furiously at the ghost.

_**What am I his keeper? I am dead, not all knowing and I can’t watch him AND you at the same time.** _

_If you can’t see everything then how do you know how to find Albus?_

_**You can thank your boyfriend for that. That moonstone bracelet lit Albus up like a fucking Christmas tree as soon as he put it on. Moonstones take what is already there and amplify it, and Albus was already special. He might as well have been wearing a sign that said “Prime Cut”.** _

_Tom knew?_

_**The bastard can read the quality of a soul as soon as he looks someone in the eyes, of course he knew. Albus was bait plain and simple. Face it chickadee, he used you to get to the Potters, so he could get to the soul eater.** _

_Why?_

_**Do I look like a mind reader to you? I don’t know what that jackass is thinking and I am happy about that. You can ask him when we see him.** _

_Tom’s going to be there?_

_**No he set up this entire thing so he COULDN’T lure the soul eater out. Tell me, do you only go stupid when talking to me or have I vastly overestimated your intelligence?** _

Hermione grit her teeth. _It’s been a long day so forgive me if I am off my game._

_**Just shut up and follow the rabbit.** _

Hermione decided she liked Neville Longbottom much more as a name in a file than as a person.

_**I heard that.** _

She ignored him and focused all her attention on the rabbit. _I’m coming Albus, just hold on a little while longer._

\--

_**A warehouse? How cliché.** _

_Be quiet Neville._

_**I just expected something more impressive for the meal Albus is going to make. Fine dining and all that.** _

_Shut it Neville._

The warehouse was very clearly abandoned; the grounds around the area were overgrown with weeds and litter and the parking lot was so overrun with grass she could hardly tell it was there. The building itself looked very dirty, the windows had all been smashed in, and one of the doors hung on its hinges. As Hermione crept closer, the silver rabbit close to her heels, she saw a new silver lock and chain in a pile by the wide open door.

_**This stinks of a trap.** _

_But whose trap is it, Tom’s or the soul eaters?_

_**Why do I have this sinking feeling that you are going to trigger the damned trap to find out?** _

_Do you have any better ideas?_

_**Recon, and avoiding obvious open doors. I need you to stay alive long enough to take out the soul eater.** _

_You never said how you want me to do that._

_**Didn’t I?** _

_No you didn’t._

She could have sworn she heard him sigh. _**Well, and this is more of a working theory then fact mind you, to beat him you need to eat him before he can eat you.**_

“That’s your plan!”

_**Shut up!** _

_I don’t want to eat any part of his soul!_

_**You want to save Albus don’t you?** _

_Of course I do._

_**Then eat or be eaten, law of the jungle.** _

_Even if I was ok with eating ANYONE’S soul I have no idea how to go about it._

_**You are a walking void; it shouldn’t be too hard for you to figure it out.** _

_There has to be another way._

_**Well then start thinking very fast, because according to Mrs. Lovegood, Albus and the soul eater should be through that window.** _

Hermione froze and stared up at the broken window.

“How do you expect me to even get up there?”

She felt an icy pressure on her leg and looked down to see the rabbit looking up at her. The rabbit jerked her head toward a large pile of plywood boxes.

“Climb them?” She guessed.

The rabbit made an excited lap around her legs.

“Ok then.” She muttered and started the arduous task of piling box after after box into something vaguely resembling a staircase.

_**Hurry Hermione.** _

_This would be much easier with help you know._

_**I am a ghost. The best I can do is stare intently at something and hope something happens.** _

Hermione slowly started to climb her makeshift stairs, cringing at every pop and groan the boxes gave as she climbed. She almost fainted in relief when she made it to the top and could wrap her arms around the much sturdier window ledge and carefully pulled herself into the building.

 _No more heights, not now not ever._ She vowed, that was when she got a good look around.

She was on top of some sort of catwalk that swayed back and forth gently in the faint breeze the broken windows let in.

_Of course._

_**Look down there.** _

She peered down into the gloom and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Albus. He was tied down to what looked like an old dentist’s chair, but other than looking extremely disheveled he seemed unharmed. He was glaring even.

“I don’t know who you are,” the boy was saying, his voice echoing around the empty room. “But I know you are not my uncle Ron.”

A figure stepped out of the shadows by the tied boy and her heart skipped a beat when she recognized her ex-husband.

_Please tell me that it isn’t him._

_**Well it’s his body, that’s all I can tell you.** _

_I could have figured that out on my own!_

“Clever boy,” Ron’s voice said. “I like that. I am not so clever myself you see, so I like to have a clever host to keep me sharp.” He pulled over an old empty box and rolled out a black mat. On the inside were various flowers, rocks, and a very wicked looking knife. “And you will last a long time too.”

Albus eyed the tools and even though she was some distance away from him she could read the stark terror on his face.

“W-what are you going to do to me?”

“Oh don’t worry, I am not going to chop you up into little bits. I am just going to cut you a little, and then I will slip inside you and make myself comfortable.”

Hermione had to do something, and fast. She quickly looked around to try and find some kind of weapon and cursed herself for not thinking ahead before charging out into the night. But there was nothing, just old chain and the catwalk itself.

She looked between the catwalk to the man who wore Ron’s body, then back again. If she had the angle right…

_**Ohhhh no, Hermione I know what you are thinking and it is a very bad idea.** _

She ignored him and slowly made her way to a group of cables that connected the catwalk to the ceiling. It would be a simple matter to unwind them, but it would make a lot of noise when she did so. All she had was the element of surprise on her side, and if she lost that she didn’t know what would happen.

“Don’t!” Albus howled behind her as she forced herself to slowly unwrap the first chain. “Please don’t!” The catwalk shuddered under her feet.

_One down._

_**Think this through Hermione, that is a long ass drop.** _

She started to unwind the second chain.

“If you squirm I will have to start over again.” The man scolded.

 _Two._ This time the catwalk gave a loud screech as it descended a few inches. She held her breath as silence filled the warehouse.

“Damn place is falling apart, better work quickly, yes I must.”

She let out the breath and slowly started on the last chain, this one was harder than the previous two. With all the weight of the catwalk and Hermione no longer evenly distributed between the three chains, it had been pulled taut. One good yank and the whole thing would come crashing down.

_**HERMIONE NO!** _

Hermione wrapped the chain around her hands, shut her eyes and pulled with all her might.

_**HERMIONE!** _

With a great screech the catwalk went crashing down, but Hermione didn’t get to see the aftermath. The chain she had wrapped around her hands was pulling her up as fast as the catwalk went down. She was going to get her hands caught in the pulley, she realized to her horror. Fortunately Hermione was wrong.

The rusted chain snapped just before she reached the top, and so Hermione fell and she thought she might have screamed as she plummeted to her doom.

“Hermione!”

She collided with something, no, some _one_ in midair. The last thing she registered before hitting the ground were arms wrapped around her middle in a protective embrace. Whoever had caught her had to endure the initial impact to the ground, but Hermione was not spared from all pain, she was torn from his arms when they skidded across the ground and she ended up rolling a few feet away from a very pained looking Tom Gaunt.

Hermione pulled herself closer to him.

His grey eyes flicked to her, and he scowled deeply. “You are.” He took a deep breath. “Fucking crazy.”

“I wasn’t the one who tried to catch a falling person in midair.”

He coughed out a laugh. “Just call me Tarzan.” He took a few deep, painful looking breaths and she cringed as she realized just how much easier she had it in comparison. Tom had taken a bad hit for her. “Just tell me,” he wheezed, “Why you thought dropping the catwalk,” he wheezed again, “Was a good idea.”

“He was going to hurt-” Her head jerked up. “Albus! I need to get to Albus.”

“He’s fine.” Tom attempted to struggle to his feet but collapsed back onto the ground. “I managed to push him away from the danger. Not so sure about your friend Ron. You a _re_ aware that he is somewhere in that body I am sure you just crushed.”

She paled and scrambled to her feet.

She hadn’t been thinking of Ron at all, she limped over to the wreckage, stopping only briefly to draw her eyes over the unconscious form of Albus. True to his word, Tom had managed to get Albus far from the source of the wreckage, which she now noticed included a great bit of the roof. He had a cut on his forehead, but otherwise Albus seemed unharmed.

She moved on toward the main source of the wreckage, and slowly started to sift through it. It didn’t take her long to find the trail of blood leading away from the wreckage.

“He got away.” She stated numbly and collapsed backwards.

_**Don’t you dare pass out, you have a lot of work to do and you are the only one in any shape to do it. Tend to the boy and the Jackass, and then call for help.** _

He was right, she was only one in any kind of shape to get them help.

_What about Ron, the soul eater?_

_**Gone it would seem.**_ _**It will be laying low until its host body manages to heal.**_ _**Now while chatting with you is such fun, I have things to do. Like tracking down that soul eater you lost.**_

“I didn’t lose him.” She growled, but Neville was long gone. She sighed and let herself wallow for a minute more before pulling her sore body off of the ground.

She had work to do.

 


End file.
